


Shadow

by DCBrierton



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, F/F, Getting Together, Locked In, Office
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DCBrierton/pseuds/DCBrierton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heather decides to shadow Rebecca at work. Because Rebecca looks hot in her lawyer clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mierke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mierke/gifts).



> For Mierke, who wanted the characters to be truly happy.

Rebecca hears a knock on her doorway and looks up from the depositions in the Shapiro case. “Hey Mrs. Gonzalez! Do you need me to get out of your way?”

But it isn’t Mrs. Gonzalez and her giant vacuum, even though it’s Saturday and no one at Whitefeather & Associates works on a Saturday, except Rebecca, of course, because she has some New York habits she’s still working on getting over. And Tim-the-secret-Canadian, but only when Paula’s blackmailing him, and as far as Rebecca knows, all Paula’s manipulative energies are currently focused on Rebecca’s love life, which is… great. Just peachy! So it should only be Mrs. Gonzalez here, or maybe someone else, if she’s sick. Rebecca hopes she’s not sick. But even if she were, why would Rebecca’s neighbor Heather be subbing for her? Did she quit her job at Home Base? 

“God, stop staring at me.”

“Um, I was not staring, I was looking at you in a totally normal way. Plus, like, why are you even here? How did you get in? Did you break into my office to have some kind of conversation about Greg, because–” 

“Ugh, no, I am so over that. And I didn’t break in, the cleaning lady let me in when I told her I was here on a school assignment.” Heather leans against the doorway and blows a bubble with her chewing gum, which somehow looks just as cool to Rebecca as it did when she was a little kid and didn’t know how to blow bubbles herself. Okay, so maybe she’s still not great at it; it’s not that important a skill. But it looks good on Heather.

“You lied to Mrs. Gonzalez?”

“No, I’m a student. I’m here on a school assignment. Like I said? My counselor told me I need to shadow some professionals at work. So I figured I’d start with you. You look hot in your lawyer clothes. Not so much those,” says Heather, waving at Rebecca’s Saturday jeans and baggy sweater.

“I didn’t know you thought I was hot ever. That’s really flattering, because you’re, like, way hotter than me. Way hotter. I mean, um, that’s kind of off-topic for a professional conversation.” Rebecca takes a breath and counts to three, trying not to blush any harder. “I would love to have you shadow me! That would be super fun!” She sits up straighter. She likes having a clearly defined role, and she loves that for once Heather has come to her for help, instead of the other way around. “Okay! Well, right now I’m reading depositions for the Shapiro case so we can craft our legal strategy. Um, so, I could have you read some of the depositions from the neighbors and highlight mentions of–”

“Yeaaah, so, like, I’m a shadow. Does your shadow normally read depositions?”

“My literal shadow? No, it does not, but I think it would be really good for you. Being a lawyer on TV–”

Heather shakes her head and steps into Rebecca’s office, pulling a chair around directly into, yes, Rebecca’s literal shadow. Rebecca smells melon cucumber body wash, like the 90s. Is that cool again? It’s a nice smell anyway, comforting and familiar. She could get used to it. If it is. Wait, is Rebecca staring again?

“Ok, so as I was saying, being a lawyer on TV is all about meetings and appearing in court, but in actuality the majority of lawyers appear in court very rarely. Most of my work is done on the computer, reading and organizing evidence and reading and writing legal documents. A lot of people think it sounds boring, but it’s actually really, really cool.” Rebecca runs down, realizing that she’s babbling. Heather is sitting with her arms crossed and feet planted and gazing at Rebecca like she’s a painting, or a tv show, or definitely something that can’t look back. Well, fine. She’s here on Saturday to get some work done, and if she learned nothing else in New York, she definitely did learn how to work with someone watching her every move. Just not quite so literally.

* * *

On Monday morning, Heather is leaning on the hood of Rebecca’s car at 8:24 when she walks out the door to go to work. Which on the one hand is not that weird; they’re neighbors, after all. On the other hand, they’re neighbors, and Rebecca has never seen Heather before noon. Ever. So she’s surprised to see Heather now, looking like she got up at least an hour ago and holding a cup of Starbucks that she’s pointedly not drinking. When Rebecca presses the remote to unlock the car doors, Heather folds herself into the passenger seat and places the coffee in the center cupholder. Rebecca glances at her as she puts on her seatbelt, and Heather actually smiles.

“I got you coffee. Thanks for letting me shadow you. It’s pretty cool.” Heather puts her feet up on the dashboard and leans her chair back so she’s facing the ceiling. Rebecca launches into a description of what to expect at the office today, but when she looks back at the first red light, Heather has clearly fallen asleep. 

At the office, Heather follows Rebecca from two or three feet back, apparently having given up on the need to stay in a literal shadow now that she’s made her point. She hangs back while Rebecca talks to Paula. Once they're back in Rebecca’s office, she settles herself again, seeming ready to pick up staring where she left off on Saturday. It’s weird, but Rebecca’s hardly in a position to complain about that. And actually she’s never been shadowed before; she’s worked with interns, but maybe that’s different. She blows her breath out in a huff and focuses on preparing for today’s meeting. 

In the meeting, Heather’s silent gaze starts to feel pretty normal, actually. There are always silent people in Rebecca’s meetings, whether they’re unusually well-behaved clients or Mrs. Hernandez. Sure, most of them look at whoever’s speaking instead of focusing intensely on Rebecca herself, but that’s a detail Rebecca can ignore. The meeting goes well; no one gets a text Rebecca didn’t mean to send them, and no one bursts into song about their sexual orientation, and wow, if those are her standards for a good meeting now, maybe she should have stayed in New York and tried harder to be Audra Levine. Except New York sucked, and trying to be Audra Levine sucked. Crap. Why is she even on this train of thought? Everyone else is picking their things up and filtering out of the room, talking about lunch.

“So, lunch?” Paula says, waving her hand in front of Rebecca’s face.

“Sure! Let me put this stuff away, and I’ll meet you.”

“In the kitchen. I have leftovers for you. Plus, it gives us more time to concentrate on planning.” Paula winks. “I have some ideas.”

Rebecca hides her head under her arms. Like planning has ever helped her. Well, sure, it got her invited to Thanksgiving at the Chans’, and a bunch of other places, but her love life is just as much of a mess now as it was before any of Paula’s planning happened. Whatever situation Paula gets Rebecca into with Josh, Rebecca can always mess it up. The whole thing is getting really, really old. It does make Paula happy, but as far as Rebecca’s concerned, that’s pretty much the best that can be said.

Lunch is awkward, with Heather openly rolling her eyes every time Paula brings up either Josh or Greg, and Paula determinedly plowing forward no matter how many times Rebecca says she’s done with the whole situation. Eventually Rebecca has the bright idea of asking Paula what other professionals Heather could shadow next, figuring maybe that could scratch the itch she feels to arrange someone else’s life. At least it has the advantage that Heather looks embarrassed instead of Rebecca, and after Paula’s done complaining that Rebecca’s fooling herself she does whip out her phone and start making a list of favors she’s owed. They occupy the rest of the meal that way, and Rebecca thinks maybe the whole Josh discussion is over until tomorrow.

A few minutes later, Paula sticks her head in Rebecca’s office door. “Have you seen what Josh posted on Facebook while we were at lunch? Because I have a plan–“

She’s cut off by Heather closing the door in her face. “Not work related. Lunch was fine, but I’m here to learn. We can talk about those losers any time,” Heather says to Rebecca, who doesn’t feel she’s really the correct person to complain to.

Paula pushes the door back open. “You really should–“

Heather closes it again, twisting the lock so hard it breaks off in her hand. “Um, oops? Your door is kinda broken.” Paula’s standing outside the door, twisting the handle and making furious motions at Heather through the glass, plus some signs that clearly mean _Rebecca! Get her out of my way! I need to talk to you about swordfish._ Rebecca makes a confused face about that last one. _About Josh! Josh!_ Oh, yeah, that makes more sense.

“My door is broken. Because of you. You broke my door.” Rebecca’s stating the obvious again. Great, that’s great. She’s totally handling this well. She shakes her head to clear it, then takes the broken piece of lock from Heather and waves it at Paula, who leaves and returns a minute later with her copy of Rebecca’s key. Good thing Paula has a copy of everyone’s keys, although that's also kind of creepy. But apparently the lock doesn’t work anymore, because Paula’s been messing with it for kind of a long time, and the door’s still closed. Paula pulls a set of lock picks out of her bra, but Rebecca knows from experience that Paula doesn’t really know how to pick locks, she just thinks carrying lock picks is sexy.

“In my defense, your door shouldn’t break that easy. Are you okay? You don’t look that good.” Heather makes a concerned face and steers Rebecca back into her chair. Rebecca doesn’t resist.

In fact, Rebecca doesn’t feel that good, she feels kind of freaked out. She’s locked in her office. This isn’t what she planned for today, and she’s not great at improvising. Okay, no-nonsense New York lawyer Rebecca can handle this; she dials reception and asks them to call maintenance. She tries not to sound too impatient. This is West Covina, not New York, and there’s no need to make anyone afraid for their job. Even so, she can see a crowd accumulating outside her office, so probably someone is taking things seriously. Hopefully.

Heather’s now sitting down like nothing happened, looking at Rebecca intently and playing with her bracelets. Well, the whole situation is her fault, but Rebecca didn’t really want to talk about Josh either. She decides to get back to work, which is always the most normal thing in her life. That’s sad, but true.

She sits down and looks at her computer. Right, still depositions. In fact, she doesn't have any more meetings today, and they just had lunch, so there's no reason for her to be so shaken. Being locked in her office doesn't need to throw off her plans. It's not even like she's out of contact with the outside world; she pulls up Facebook just to prove it to herself.

"Not work related," says Heather, sounding bored, and as Rebecca scrolls down the page, she feels Heather's hand land on hers. It's cool and dry, and it moves the mouse forward on the desk, just enough so that when Rebecca pushes down the tab closes, instead of opening the album of pictures of Josh and Hector surfing. Heather leans back, making a little sound of satisfaction.

"That was kind of rude," says Rebecca, and feels her heart start to beat a little faster. She figures that’s because she's so used to letting everyone else decide what she should do. But her shrink, Dr. Akopian, says she should stand up for herself more, and she’s trying. 

"Yeah, I know," says Heather, scuffing her toe on the floor. The look of uncertainty on Heather's face throws off Rebecca's building rant about personal space and self-determination, giving Heather time to continue. “It’s just, you’re like, the smartest person I know. And you have great boobs. And when you think about, like, Josh, who is frankly not even that cool, you just, like, forget that. And I think that sucks.”

“Okay? Wait, Josh isn’t that cool?” Rebecca knows Josh isn’t a lot of things, like ready for commitment, goal-oriented, or into reading books. But if he isn’t cool, what does that say about Rebecca? Is she, like, negative cool on this scale?

“No. And I think you should stop thinking about him. I get that New York wasn’t good for you, like, you have no chill, so you need to be around people who can chill. Without self-medicating with prescription drugs. Drugs are supposed to be fun, not boring. So, whatever, you followed him out here, but–”

“I did not follow him out here.” Rebecca doesn’t know why she’s still arguing that point, but she is.

“No, you did follow him out here, but, like, it’s not about that anymore. West Covina is good for you. Josh is bad for you, but that doesn’t mean the whole town is. Me, for instance.” Heather’s leaning forward now, and Rebecca can smell melon again. 

“You?” 

“Yeah, like, I like you, and we’re honest with each other, even that time when I wrote the paper about you, and, like, we help each other out. I’m not saying _settle for me_ , because I am way too badass to sleep with anyone who isn’t into me." Heather shrugs. "But I’m really feeling oppressed by the patriarchal gender norms inherent in heterosexual relationships recently, so if you were into that, I could be down. Like I said, you’ve got great boobs.”

Rebecca’s head is spinning, and she’s pretty sure Heather didn’t just break into song, but not, like, 100% sure. She thinks that might be something to bring up to Dr. Akopian, because it really doesn’t seem great to be unsure whether to respond in song or in normal speech at a time like this. But normal speech should be safe, even in musicals people talk. Except, like, in Les Mis. Or Hamilton, unless you count rapping. Rebecca’s not great at rap. She can’t reply in rap. Heather’s way too cool not to notice Rebecca floundering, and suddenly Rebecca wants to impress her even more than she always has. 

“Rebecca? Rebecca! I didn’t mean to shut down your whole processor, I’m just saying, everyone knows you can’t get over someone if you check their social media accounts ten times a day. So maybe you should block him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean, maybe I should, but… I’m feeling pretty over him right now.” Rebecca’s mind is showing her a fast-forward version of her life in West Covina, highlighting every time Josh blew her off and every time Heather picked up the phone on the second ring and came right over, bringing weed or beer or just a shoulder to cry on. A shoulder that smells way better than Rebecca noticed at the time. Rebecca takes a deep breath and leans in to kiss Heather, because for once she’s totally out of words. It hurts when Heather stiffens and pushes her back, even though Heather’s hands on her shoulders are gentle.

“Maybe not right now?” Heather says, looking through the door, where Rebecca can see a maintenance guy squatting to focus on the lock and Paula openly staring in the window, either fascinated by the aborted kiss or trying to read lips. Has Paula learned to read lips? It’s a disturbing thought. “It’s not, like, very professional to kiss students who are shadowing you. Plus I think exhibitionism is better saved for when the sex is starting to get stale.”

“When the sex is… Okay, yeah, you’re right. You’re right. I’m going to just, just, sit here and work on these depositions. Yeah.” Heather just nods, apparently moving back into silent shadow mode. But she scoots her chair a little closer, which Rebecca doesn’t think is really about getting a better view of the depositions.

The maintenance guy gets the door unlocked just after Paula leaves to go drive her kids from school to whatever practice they have today. Rebecca takes advantage of her brief window of opportunity to pack up her things and get out of the office, yelling to Darryl that she’s working from home for the rest of the afternoon. She’ll still have to have whatever conversation’s coming tomorrow, but Rebecca has always preferred put off dealing with her problems for as long as possible, even if it leaves more time for Paula to work up complicated theories and plans.

In the parking lot they run for Rebecca’s car, and inside the car, well, it’s awhile before Rebecca can get her heart rate down enough to feel safe driving home. Heather’s not exactly helping, with her face and her hair and her hands. And her lips, she has soft lips. A soft mouth in general. It’s good. So good that Rebecca doesn’t remember what she’s doing in the car until Paula pulls back into the parking lot and Heather turns Rebecca’s face to look. Rebecca puts the car in gear and pulls out a little too fast, but she’s under control by the time she reaches the street, and it’s a short drive home.

* * *

On Tuesday morning, Heather’s leaning on the hood of Rebecca’s car again, holding another cup of coffee. She stands up when Rebecca unlocks the doors, but she doesn’t get in, and she doesn’t hand over the coffee.

“Hey.”

“Heeeey,” Rebecca replies, hoping this is not, like everything else in her life, going to be super awkward. Also, trying not to stare at Heather’s mouth. “Why is chewing gum so sexy? Oh, god, did I say that out loud?”

Heather laughs and kisses her. “Yeah. So, I can’t shadow you today, because I read the guidelines last night, and it’s against the rules to shadow, like, anyone you’re dating. Or to date anyone you’re shadowing. Whichever.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” says Rebecca, who had. It’s not like she isn’t a lawyer.

“So, I was thinking maybe you could drive me to the office and I could shadow Darren? Darryl? Your boss? I figure if I bring him coffee, he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, sure,” says Rebecca. “Whatever you want.” She’s feeling more chill already.


End file.
